


Memorable Christmas Parties

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: F/M, Porn with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shirley meets Carl Sack again at the Crane, Poole and Schmidt Christmas party and he's back in Boston for good. He might be back in Shirley's life for good too</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorable Christmas Parties

Christmastime held a special meaning to Shirley Schmidt for several reasons.  
When she was a little girl, Christmastime meant a huge tree in the foyer of her parents mansions with garland, lights, and ornaments hung on its branches. While a mountain of presents were tucked underneath, she would climb up the tall ladder to the top and place the star in its position. Their housekeeper would make all kinds of cookies and cakes, and the smell of the goodies would waft through the spacious house, filling everyone with the Christmas spirit. Her brothers and sisters and cousins would enjoy a raucous romp around the house, eliciting harsh tones out of her father. Later, everyone would join for a delicious dinner at the long table in the dining room. Her mother would pull out her linens and china, chiding all of the children not the break a single piece. And then, when everyone was about to burst with impatience, they would gather round the tree and tear open the presents. As a child, she had extremely enjoyed Christmas.  
When she grew older, the excitement waned. When she moved out of the big mansion to attend Harvard, it had spiced back up again. College parties with spiked punch, loud music, and only a little bit of drugs being passed around seemed so much more exciting than Christmas at home. The after parties were even better. The after, after parties were the best. Somehow, some of the students managed to sneak off campus or into each others rooms and hang a sock on the door. She couldn't recall how many times it had been her sock on the door. Yes, she had thoroughly enjoyed Christmas at college.  
When she got out of college and was searching for a firm that would hire her, Christmas got pushed to the back burner. Sometimes she didn't even make it home for the holidays. After being hired, Christmas consisted of office parties that sometimes, if she were lucky, ended with a bed partner for the night. It had gone on for quite some time before her view on Christmas changed irrevocably.  
The only person so far that had completely changed her life irrevocably was Denny Crane. A month or so before Christmas, they had begun that so fated affair. She had almost hated him, hated herself for letting him take over her so fully. That was why she had only allowed the relationship to continue if they kept it secret. She should've known that Denny couldn't keep his big mouth shut. He had spilled the beans to someone, and she had found out at the office holiday party. Livid she had dragged him away, tearing into him up one side and down the other. Unfortunately he had gained control over the situation which had resulted in a hot, passionate tryst in his office down the hall. He had done everything possible to her before he had ended the night with a statement that had changed her life from that moment on, “You love me, Shirley. You just don't know it yet.” After that, they had had a serious conversation. She gave him the keys of her heart right then, and she had never been able to think of Christmas the same again.  
Shirley was thinking of that particular night as she sat at the bar. It was that time of year again and the office was decked out wreaths, red ribbons, and unfortunately, mistletoe. She had tried to avoid that seeing that the last time she had landed under the stupid plant, both Alan and Denny had stolen a kiss. She wasn't planning on kissing anyone tonight. In fact, she felt quite down. She didn't quite feel the mood of Christmas. The year had been hard for everyone, and to be quite honest, she felt alone. At least, for a while she had had Ivan to toy with. She kept telling herself that it hadn't been serious, but after the incident, she felt like the scum of the earth. Even though she hadn't known it at the time, she had been the “other woman.” It had killed her to see the look of despair on poor Missy's face as she had explained that she thought Ivan was having an affair. Shirley felt as if she had thoroughly gotten Ivan back, but it hadn't helped the ache in her heart as she had refused him. I can't love you anymore, Ivan. She had spoken those words to him and walked away. Truthfully, it would've been nice to bask in Ivan's love. But she knew that it was only temporary. He was cheater. It was a pattern he would never break.  
So she sat alone tonight thinking of that time so long ago when she actually felt loved in a real way, not the lusting that she endured from Alan and Denny now. Denny had loved her then, truly. Of course, he loved her now, but it wasn't the same as when she would lay her head on his shoulder, her fingers laced in his as he told you quietly, “You are my sunshine, Shirley. My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray...”  
Shirley took a drink, tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. She had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, but there was a point when a woman, or any person for that matter, could not handle being alone anymore. She felt as if she had reached that point.  
Someone sat down next to her, but she hardly noticed, her mind far away.  
“What'll it be?” The bartend asked.  
“Scotch. Single malt.” The man's voice replied. The bartend turned away and he was silent for a moment before his voice broke through her thoughts.  
“If it isn't Shirley Schmidt.”  
She turned quickly at her name and found one of the senior partners sitting next to her. She hardly knew Carl Sack. They had worked together briefly at the New York office, and she knew him to be a very good lawyer, but they had kept the relationship professional and distant. She hadn't stayed long at the New York branch. She had found it stiff and unwelcoming, although the associates and partners were rather good litigators.  
“Carl Sack I believe.” Shirley replied, inspecting him. He looked the same as when she had last seen him. His abundant amount of thick white-gray hair was meticulously styled back from his forehead. He had eyes that had the ability to be kind or not so kind. He dressed as most lawyers of Crane, Poole, and Schmidt – finely tailored suits with an expensive brand name and extremely high price tags.  
“What are you doing in Boston?” She asked.  
“I was down for a case. I thought I would stay for the party.” A smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “Didn't know I'd be so lucky.” He took a drink of the glass the bartend had set in front of him.  
Shirley raised a brow. “Really?” She asked. Surely, he wasn't hitting on her. He hadn't struck her as that kind of man. Of course, she hadn't really known him that well. For all she knew, he picked up prostitutes like Denny.  
“Mmm.” Carl responded, sliding her a sideways glance. “I was expecting some stiff suits, some intolerable behavior from Crane.”  
“Yes.” Shirley said quietly, remembering the two's dislike for the other. It was the main reason for their being in different states. It was quite a shame. The Boston branch would be lucky to have Carl.  
“I didn't expect to see you here.” Carl said.  
“Why not?” Shirley asked, lifting her chin.  
“You didn't strike me as one to join in on parties with a bunch of young associates in heat.”  
Shirley felt her face color and took a deep drink of the alcohol. Most of the time, such comments would not affect her, however she was used to hearing it from Alan and Denny, not a sophisticated lawyer such as Carl Sack.  
“Oh, did I say young?” Carl asked. “I must've been mistaken.” A more mischievous smile toyed at his lips.  
Shirley's eyes widened. Now she knew he was hitting on her. She swallowed and tried to regain her composure, to think of something to say.... but there was nothing.  
“I was thinking about the after party.” He continued. “I was thinking of going to dinner somewhere, find some nice, juicy steak to bite into.”  
“And... where would that be?” She asked weakly.  
“You.” He replied and took another drink as casually as if he had said nothing.  
Shirley blinked, the heat rushing to her face at an alarming rate. She was so stunned that she could think of absolutely nothing to say for at least half a minute before she came up with, “I don't take propositions.”  
“I don't make them.” Carl replied.  
“Then... then what was that?”  
“I didn't ask a question; I made a statement.” He clarified.  
Shirley regained a bit of her composure and said, “And who are you to think that you can make demands of a named partner?”  
“You looked a bit lonely, Shirley.” He said with feigned compassion. “You looked as if you could used some action.”  
Shirley raised her brow higher than before. “Right now?”  
“Yes. Right now. On this very bar in fact.” He said patting the wood.  
She took his attack in better stride that time, and said, sarcastically, “Empty this room of all these people,” She waved her hand across the large crowd, “and maybe I would take you up on your offer.” She slid down from her stool and left him at the bar, letting him think that she had walked away with the last word. She hadn't.  
Her heart was pounding.

~BL~

Shirley tried to recover after her talk with Carl Sack. She tried to carry on conversations with other people, but she kept seeing him across the room, and whether he was looking at her or not, her heart went off on a marathon.  
She was talking to one of the newer associates about litigation when the clock hit ten. The young woman, glanced down at her watch. “I'm sorry, Miss Schmidt, but I really have to go.” She apologized quickly and began to hurry away. Shirley watched her go, confused. She became even more confused as she noticed something strange. Other associates and partners were moving towards the door, ending their conversations. Drinks were abandoned at the bar and even the bartender himself walked out from behind the counter and headed for the door. Shirley stepped forward, a frown marring her brow. She was about to head out of the room as well to ask questions when she saw him standing across the room. He was leaning against the bar, a little smile on his mouth.  
The door shut behind the last person, and he pushed away from the bar, saying, “'Empty this room of all these people and maybe I'll take you up on your offer.”  
“Carl, I wasn't serious.”  
“You sounded pretty serious to me.”  
Shirley let out a breath, looking around the deserted room, “How did you even...?”  
“Get them all to leave?”  
“Yes.”  
“I said that you would like them to go at ten o' clock. An order from the 'named partner'. Why wouldn't they obey?” He asked, spreading his hands.  
“You are...” She couldn't finish the sentence.  
“There have been many a name at the end of that sentence from many people.” He said, walked across the room to her.  
“I believe it.” Shirley told him, watching him closely as he approached.  
“You might even call me a bad name for this.”  
“I might.” She said, lifting her chin as he came within arms length.  
“You might also let me fuck you on the bar.” He said, his proximity closing until they were nearly toe to toe. She wanted to step back, but she refused to back down. She had handled Denny Crane, she had handled Ivan Tiggs – she could handle Carl Sack.  
“You're probably thinking right now that you can somehow get out of this.” He said, his voice lowering. “But you're wrong. I saw that look in your eyes, Shirley. I saw someone who has been lonely for too long. In fact, you don't want me to back down from this. You want me to keep going until your panting... spent.... gasping..... ravaged-”  
“Stop it.” She ordered, holding up a hand. She felt that her cheeks were red, and she knew that her center was springing to life, but she took a deep breath, told herself to refuse him.  
She felt his fingers at her cheek, didn't realize that she had closed her eyes. She snapped them open, but didn't move to push him away. His fingertips trailed over her jaw, his hazel eyes deepening.  
“May I go on?” He asked softly. “I think I ended with... ravaged.”  
She swallowed hard, found herself mute.  
“After ravaged, I believe it would be... pleading... begging for me to take you again.” His fingers slid down her neck, touched her collarbone.  
“Carl...” She said in a whisper, all the volume that she could produce.  
“Then you would groaning... crying out...” His voice went on steadily, “Until that moment.... the climax...” His hand dropped, skimming over her chest to the buttons of her shirt.  
She drew in a breath, felt her heart pounding, nearly out of her chest. The area between her legs was throbbing insistently and she felt weak, powerless against him. Already, she could feel the smooth wood of the bar beneath her fingers, the tingles that would sweep over her, the pleasure of his skin touching hers...  
It's just the loneliness talking. Don't give in. Don't be a whore. The logical thoughts made only a small mark upon her awareness. The rest of her mind was caught up in his description, the sudden need for intimacy of any kind.  
Carl's hand slid from her chest down her stomach. His hand pressed against her, just above her waistline. His face came close to hers, until she felt his breath whispering over her cheek, and his lips brushed her cheekbone. She felt him untuck her shirt with a tug, his fingers darting beneath to skim her stomach. She shuddered, felt her abdominal muscles constrict. Her stomach flipped with desire as his fingers rode over her ribcage, traced beneath her breast.  
“Take your clothes off, Shirley.” He whispered in her ear.  
“Carl, please...” She whispered, tried to find the inner reasoning voice to make him stop. The search was futile for indeed, she did not want him stop as he had earlier stated. However, she was too paralyzed by his complete and utter domination of her senses to move her hands from her sides to her shirt buttons.  
His fingers skated over the material of her bra, his thumb finding her nipple through the cloth. She closed her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath as arousal stung at her breast.  
“Won't you take off your clothes for me, Shirley?” He whispered his voice almost rough now, his desire filtering through. “In New York no one disobeyed Carl Sack.” He massaged her nipple harder, urging it to erection. Her center tightened further, her lungs barely cooperative.  
“Th-this...” She whispered her quavering voice barely audible, barely functioning. “This isn't.. New York.” She managed.  
“But I am Carl Sack.” His hand slid out from beneath her shirt as he swiftly moved behind her. Her heart throbbed as he stripped her jacket off her arms. He moved to her shirt, deftly sliding the buttons from their paired holes. As he tore her shirt away she was already feeling exposed. Her nipples ached beneath her bra from his fleeting fondling and the center of her body pulsated hot with each pump of her heart.  
His fingers travelled back over her shoulder, skimming down alongside her spine. The sensation sent goosebumps rippling over her entire body in quickly tingling waves.  
His fingers found the snap of her bra, loosed it slowly and sensually. She tried to keep ahold of herself as the garment tumbled down her arms and crumpled at her feet. Her breathing sharpened as his palms stroked her arms, his fingertips barely brushing the sides of her breasts. His mouth pressed against her shoulder and neck, turning her center to pure liquid arousal with the simple caress. It took everything within her not to spin around and take control, forcing him to pleasure her more quickly.  
His hands moved from her arms. Her body went taut as his fingers barely touched her aroused nipples. The soft touches forced a groan to well up in her throat.  
“You want me to touch them.” He murmured in her ear. “Fondle them... suck them...”  
She held her breath, unwilling to let another moan escape in response to his alluring voice. Her lungs ached after several long moments as he let the statement hang, his fingertips continuing to barely caress the stony tips.  
At last, his fingers fell away. The breath rushed from her lungs on the note of a frustrated moan as he left the tender flesh unpleasured, but fully aroused.  
His hands slid back down her stomach and she nearly forgot her untouched breasts as his fingers slid beneath her waistband. They swayed back and forth, just above the hair shielding her center. Her hands clenched at her side, her womanhood throbbing hard in reaction to his all too manly touch. She wished in her mind that his hand would dip lower, cup her, touch her, pleasure her. If only his finger would slide between her feminine lips, feel her hot and aroused against his fingertips...  
She broke out of her fantasy when his hand retreated to begin unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. She kept her eyes closed, her heart throbbing in time with the pounding between her legs.... what would surely be in time with the thrusts of his manhood inside her...  
Her slacks pooled at her feet and without telling herself to, she stepped out of them, leaving her heels in the pile.  
Carl's palm pressured against her stomach once more as he pressed her back against him. Her stomach fluttered when she felt his erection heavy against her lower back through his clothing. Her stomach did another flip when his nose pressed against her hair. She heard him draw in a deep breath, let it out slowly.  
“You smell beautiful, Shirley.” He whispered to her. “I want to see how good you will taste.”  
Her heart surged. That steak he had been speaking off earlier...  
“I promised you the bar.” He continued. “Let's not make me a lier.” He stepped forward, taking her with him. She had no choice but to comply to his steps. As they drew nearer to the bar, she felt her legs weakening at her knees. All she could hear was her own heavy breaths and the rushing of her blood.  
They came to the shining wooden counter and she thought she might stumble. He reached around her and pushed stools out of the way. One crashed to the floor but he didn't seem to care. She went up to the edge of the bar without any further coaxing.  
Her quivering hands slid over the smooth wooden surface until she reached the opposite edge. Planting her elbows as well, she bent over the cool, unyielding path of wood until her forehead pressed against it. Between her arms, her breasts pressed against the bar, her hardened nipples aching further against the surface.  
Carl's hands slid over her hips, brushed over her buttocks and down to the backs of her thighs. Her muscles strained, her legs even more weak than before. Her heart seized when she felt his fingers skim upward once more, between her legs. Her breath heated the bar with a moan as her legs parted slightly.  
“That's it.” Carl murmured, his fingers almost there, almost touching her. Her breath caught and she held it, waiting in anxious anticipation. A single fingertip trailed up the inside of one thigh and back  
down the other, teasing lightly. His finger traveled the arching path once more, his touch slightly grazing her this time.  
“God...” The plea rushed from her mouth in a hard, expelled breath, her lungs having ached from the air held tightly within. “Please...” It was almost a whine a pathetic petition that he fulfill her desires.  
He tickled the sensitive flesh of the deepest part of her thigh, so close to the hot, slick folds of her center. Her fingers blanched around the edge of the bar, her eyes squeezing shut so hard that colors burst before her vision. Her chest heaved against the wood, her heart beating out a rhythm of desperation. She wanted to cry out again, to beg with him. Hadn't he already brought her to her knees? Couldn't he see that he had her at her most vulnerable point?  
She felt his fingertips brush her feminine lips once more, and she bit down on her lower lip, a strangled gasp struggling for life. No. Do not give in. Whatever you do, do not lose any more control.  
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, his fingers suddenly separated her, sending a hurricane of pleasure whirling through her. Her perseverance slipped, a cry, rife with desire, passing her lips. Every muscle in her body was taut as a bowstring as his two fingers barely breached her. He massaged lightly causing her breaths to turn quick and shallow. Her legs quivered while her body gushed arousal onto his waiting fingertips. Her very insides shuddered as his other fingers wrapped around her hip. He began to rub her there, just inside, causing her head to spin crazily with desire. Where once she could not suppress the cries, her vocal cords were now frozen, her lips parted in an unvoiced proclamation of pleasure.  
He tortured her for several long seconds, his touch so close to where he could bring her the most pleasure, yet so far away. The tumult inside her caused her body to strain over the bar. Her lower stomach held a heavy pressure, the pleasure farther down almost unbearable. She wanted to scream. She wanted to plead with him to do something, anything to bring the entire weight of pleasure crashing down upon her willing body. Her throat was tight, her tongue barely cooperative. She managed his name, the single syllable fighting its way past her lips. He didn't respond, his ministrations continuing steadily. She pressed her forehead against the counter, choking out his name louder this time, forcing her plea to spill out, “Carl... please...” She moaned. “P-please...”  
“Please, what?” He murmured, his fingers pressing a bit harder than before.  
“St-stop...”  
“You want me to stop?” He questioned, although his hand did not falter.  
“Nooo...” She groaned. “Please....d-do something.....anything... Just... please...”  
“Anything?” He repeated, his tone soft and sensual.  
She didn't think before breathing out quickly, “Yes... please...”  
His hand fell away and the breath rushed out of her lungs. However, her relief was short-lived.  
She heard him move behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of his gray-white hair disappearing behind her.  
Oh, God no. The thought almost formed into words as she slowly looked straight ahead once more. He had said that he would, but... C'mon, Shirley. Get it together. Its not like you've never had a blowjob before... its just..... never been with him.  
Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his lips brushing her thigh, the curve of her buttock. The desire began to thunder through her, faster and harder than before, her thought winding downwards into fantasies that would soon be realities.  
A soft moan floated from between her parted lips as she felt his breath hot against her center. Clenching the bar, she endured the slow torturous seconds he took to linger over her until his lips barely brushed her. She rose up on her toes while her fingers drained of color around the bar as his mouth surrounded her soft, wet folds. He gripped her hip, pulling her back to his mouth to suck hard at the sensitive flesh. The breath rushed from her lungs as he held her to him. Her body shivered, the urge to escape the arousing sensations teasing at the edges of her mind.  
He sucked more slowly now, like a slow, sensual kiss, bringing to light her deepest desires, right before the act.  
She felt as if her center was about to explode before he released her. The air washed over her at the sudden absence of his hot mouth, and she felt her muscles relax if only a little.  
Don't relax yet. It's not over. He promised and you asked for it. You. The voice inside her head taunted her and she lowered her forehead to the counter once more as she felt him move close to her again. She held her breath as his lips brushed her. Her body went taut when his tongue emerged to press against her hot feminine lips.  
She wanted to scramble over the counter away from him, but the desire rooted deep inside her held her chained there beneath his touch, so promising of fulfillment of her every want.  
He laved her slowly, outside of her at first, causing a throb of desire to pound through her. She tensed again when his hands molded over both of her hips, holding her there. She swallowed on a dry throat, knowing that in the next second the pleasure was going to spike higher than before. She was certain that he would make her come quickly, and even if he didn't intend to she didn't know if she could take his arousing ministrations much longer.  
She re-adjusted her grip on the counter as she felt him hover close, and then...  
She cried out as his tongue thrust into her, her back arching sharply. Oh, God... Her mind swirled with the thought though no discernible words could pass her lips. Even then, she was only vaguely aware of her pleasure-filled moans as his tongue began to push in and out of her.  
His hands at her hips urged her to move with him, coaxing her towards compliance. She groaned, forcing herself not to give in for the longest of seconds with the pleasure building slowly at her center. At last, she couldn't punish herself with her frozen position over the counter any longer, couldn't deny herself the pleasure of her body moving against the pressure tongue, bringing her closer and closer to the abyss. Her hips began to circle tightly, her body moving nearly of its own accord.  
Her mind was spinning, consumed with the one thought, the one need, the one desire: the pleasure, the climax, the orgasm. She mentally reached for it, her body shaking, her heart pounding with the insane desires.  
The tip of his tongue was hard against her clitoris, rubbing at the inflamed flesh, drawing her closer to the final moment. She could no longer control the breathless moans and groans that were wrenched from her willing yet silently resisting tongue. Her body was shaking, her hips grinding urgently against him. And at the very center, her core, the arousal gushed from her, her clitoris tight and  
hard against his touch, sensitive to his pleasuring.  
As each second passed the pleasure mushroomed within her, faster and hotter, growing higher and higher until she thought that she could take it no more. And then suddenly each second slowed, each pound of her heart defined, each throb of desire stronger, until with the most powerful pleasure she had ever felt, everything within her exploded. The orgasm took her, from the inside out, from her center to her fingertips. Her vision darkened and then without warning burst into color as her body bucked upon the bar, unrestrained. She thought she heard herself crying out, thought she felt her eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back, her mouth stretched open in the expression of pleasure. The climax shook her to the core, the tingles vibrating outwards in waves that wouldn't stop for several long seconds.  
At last, her body relaxed and went limp on the bar, her strength drained for the moment. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing heavy against the smooth, polished wood. She could feel her heart thudding through her ribs against the counter, the sweet afterglow of the orgasm softly throbbing through her.  
She heard Carl behind her, rising to his feet. She heard a rustle of clothing, realized that he meant to consummate the night, but she couldn't find it within herself to care that she was about to give herself up wholly and completely to man she knew only professionally and then, only little. She could only care that she could feel that pleasure again, all consuming, overtaking. It was something that she had never felt before and she knew herself well enough to know that she could become addicted to that kind of pleasure. But still, she remained draped over the bar, drinking in the effects of the climax, finding pleasure in the fact that he was about to ravish her again.  
She felt his hands slide over her hips against and she lifted her head. She arched her back, a silent offering, an unspoken demand. She could almost feel the pleasure rolling off of him at his success. If he didn't have an erection before, he damn well did now.  
He leaned in close to her, his damp lips skimming her back, down her spine. She shivered, feeling the desire return. He made it even more sharp as his hand slid between them, testing her arousal. She was wet from the intense orgasm, her feminine lips parting easily to his fingertips. She clenched her teeth, took a deep breath. She knew he would take it away again in an instant, knew she wouldn't be able to breath until he had brought her to the height of climax again and he had spilled the hot satisfaction of his own desire into her.  
“Are you ready?” He murmured to her, sliding his hand back to her hip, both palms now pressed against her waist.  
“Yes..” She whispered, her heart beginning to pick up speed again, the hot throb at her center returning.  
He drew out the moment, letting a few long seconds tick by, perhaps to see if she really meant it.  
She held back as well. He couldn't have all the power... could he? She moaned as she felt the sharp need swelling within her.  
“Oh, God, please, do it now...” The words broke from her lips, spilling all too willingly out of her mouth.  
His mouth left her shoulder and she suddenly felt his tip press against her center. The sensation made her want to scream, but she bit her lip, her breath held.  
Her back arched, a strained groan leaving her throat as he entered her, pressing into her slowly. He filled her completely as he sank fully into her, the flesh hard and hot. Her fingers were tight around the counter, every muscle in her body taut. He held her there for a moment, his manhood deep inside her. The pleasure, the need, the desire developed fully inside her, the urgency suddenly slamming into her.  
“Carl...” She whispered, her throat tight.  
He drew back suddenly and the thrust back into her. A sweet ache seared her as though this were his first entrance. She didn't try to contain her cries this time, didn't attempt to hide her pleasure.  
He pressed into her deeply each time he came into her. He touched her very core, making an almost painful pleasure to tear through her.  
He didn't slow after this, the tenderness gone, replaced by every animal urge.  
She found his rhythm, each defined, hard thrust easy to detect. She braced herself against the bar, her back curving to lift her buttocks against his hips each time he came into her.  
She heard his low grunts, heard her own moans, the two mixing together to form an urgent harmony of pleasure that was almost fulfilled.  
He slammed into her hard, and she felt the ache rocket through her. She ignored the slight pain, felt the pleasure through it. His manhood reached her clitoris, agonizing the flesh with each thrust. He slid easily in and out of her while her arousal multiplied, growing within her, manifesting itself in the wetness flowing from her.  
“Carl...” She gasped, her vocal cords finally cooperating. “Oh, God....” She groaned with each pound of his hips against her buttocks. He rubbed her clit again and she moaned louder, a plea struggling from her throat, “Oh, God, Carl, please...” He slammed into her again, causing her begging to swell louder, “Carl, please.... f-faster... harder...” The words fought their way off her tongue, though saturated with moans.  
This time when he thrust into her, it was harder and faster than before, an entire fulfillment of her desires. It made her want to scream and as he continued, she felt a cry welling up in her throat.  
Again and again, his hips slammed against her. Over and over again, the pleasure, the sweet pain washed over her. She couldn't detect any certain place he was touching to bring her such pleasure, she only knew that she felt it all over, every part of her straining for the orgasm again, the deep abyss that would suck her into its powerful hold. She held onto the bar, her eyes squeezed shut again, her quivering lips parted. Each time he came into her, her moans became louder. Slowly they began to morph into cries which grew in intensity and volume. She was nearly screaming by the time the climax suddenly hit. Unlike before, she didn't feel it coming. She was overtaken in an instant. For a moment, she could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart, feel the force of the pleasure taking over her. Like the shock wave of a bomb, the orgasm flew through her, tearing her apart until her body bucked uncontrollably. Heat filled her center and she heard him behind her, the intensity of his pleasure drowning out her own. Another wave of pleasure washed over her at the sensation, and last throe of passion rocked her body, leaving her to shiver upon the bar.  
She felt him slide away from her, leaving her aching and empty. She didn't move for a moment, barely dared to breath.  
She didn't hear him pull his clothes back together, but she heard him say, “I have the car waiting.”  
Her mind was too blown to wonder how he had, had the foresight to have his driver wait for him or how he knew where they would go. She could only follow his lead, her mind absorbed with the all too potent pleasure he had wrought on her all too willing body. She pulled her own clothes on, finding them where she had left them across the room.  
When they stepped into the sleek limo whose license plates simply read SACK, she could only marvel at the expensive vehicle, its seats made of beautiful smelling leather, curtains drawn over the windows. Carl spoke to the driver and she heard him give him an address. She only wondered slightly how he had come upon her street and house number. She could only wait until he pushed up the divider and turned his attention back to her. And then she could only lie back on those leather seats, her pants falling to the ground once more, her legs willing parted to his intrusion. And while the pleasure was still fresh in her mind, he led her into her own house, stripped away their clothing when they made it to the bedroom. The sheets became hot and twisted, their bodies slick with sweat until the moon was high in the sky and the exhuastion ran too deep. She couldn't think about anything when at last they rested upon the mattress, their bodies entwined. She fell asleep and dreamed, never, ever giving a thought to the morning or what it could possibly bring....

~BL~

Hot, bright sunlight shone through the window, past the curtains, to sear her sleep-filled eyes. Shirley blinked against rays of brilliant light as she came awake. She was confused for a moment. Usually when she awoke in the morning, it was still relatively dark. She would rise early enough to eat, shower, and get to the office before anyone else.  
She lifted a hand and covered her eyes, pondering over why she still felt so tired since she had obviously slept in very late. The sun was bright and high in the sky, reflecting off the snow left on the ground from the last storm. It must've been nearly eleven, maybe twelve o' clock.  
Shirley shifted in the bed and a sudden, sharp ache shot through her. She gasped at the familiar pain, then fell into silent denial.  
No.... She thought, feeling horror slide through her. Yes, yes you did. With Carl Sack... remember? Right on the bar after the Christmas party. He made everyone leave, got me alone.... Oh, God, I let him.... And it was amazing. She felt even more horrified at the last thought. No, no. After that debacle with Ivan I swore off men. No, I couldn't have....  
But the awful, maybe wonderful, truth was that she had and there was no way to turn back the clock. In fact, she had done it because of her loneliness, right? Wasn't that what had gotten her into this mess? She had been sitting alone at the bar, moping around, thinking about old times. And then Carl Sack had walked back into life. She had barely known him, and now she probably knew more about him than his own mother.  
Shirley didn't want to remove her hand from her eyes to see if Carl was still there. She was afraid that he would be... maybe afraid that he wouldn't be. So she laid there for another few moments, her hand covering her view of the room.  
How had this happened? She was always so in control, and then he had walked up to the bar and been so frank with her. She should have never said that line. “Clear this room of all of these people, and then maybe I'll take you up on your offer.” It had been the wrong thing to say to a powerful man such as Carl Sack. Sure enough, he cleared the room in a matter of minutes leaving them alone. And then it had begun. He had held her under his spell, speaking to her in low tones, coaxing her out of her clothes and onto the bar. She felt her face heat just thinking about what had happened there. Had she ever let a man take control like that before? She didn't think so. So how had Carl Sack, a man she barely knew, managed to do so in five seconds?  
And what about the limo? It seemed as though he had, had this planned from the moment he walked into the Christmas party. He had his driver waiting, even knew her address, which she might've found a bit creepy if he hadn't pleasured her here all night. Even in the car, he hadn't let up. How many orgasms had he drawn from her the night before? She couldn't remember. And not once had he allowed her any type of control. She had remained on her back or stomach during the entire encounter, which infuriated her to no end now that she thought about it. Last night, she hadn't really cared how he got it done, just that he had.  
Shirley considered lifting her hand again. Come on, Shirley. You've had one night stands before. You're not a first-timer, now stop being a wimp and just look. She swallowed and slowly removed her hand from her face. She opened her eyes slowly and took in her position on the bed. She was lying on her side, nearly in the middle of the bed. The sheet was pulled over her body and tucked under chin, although she didn't remember retrieving the sheets before she and Carl had fallen asleep. She slowly pushed herself up, felt the ache slide through her again. She ignored it and sat all the way up. She looked around, but found the bed empty... all except for a piece of paper sitting on the other pillow. Shirely stared at it for a moment. She had never had a one night stand in which her partner left her note the next morning. What did that mean?  
She didn't pick up the note for a moment, but then she told herself she was being stupid and reached out her hand. She pulled the paper towards herself and peered at the writing. It was a bit sloppy, but in cursive. Her name was written at the top, his at the bottom. What scared her was what was in between the two names.  
Just read it, Shirley. She ordered herself. She cleared her throat and picked up the piece of paper, her eyes beginning to scan the lines.  
Shirley,  
I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer. I had to catch my flight back to New York. I have meeting to attend to there. But I wanted to say that I greatly enjoyed last night. I would do it again in a heartbeat. You are a very beautiful woman with a passion that admire. I hope to see you again though I don't know when. I'll be busy with the firm as you will mostly likely be as well. I've left you my number if you wish to contact me. I already have yours, and you probably already know my intentions being the intelligent woman that you are.  
It was the most memorable Christmas party I have ever been to and I hope I will have another.  
Sincerely, Carl

Below, his number was written. She could only stare at the note. She couldn't believe it. He wanted to have sex with her on a bar and then carry on a normal relationship? How had he even gotten her number? How had he known where her house was? And how in the hell had he known how to get under her skin?  
Shirley tossed the note aside and quickly slid out of the bed, her body reminding her that she wasn't as young as she used to be. He had definitely gone at her the night before, and her aching body wouldn't soon forget that. Unfortunately, her mind wouldn't either.  
She limped to the shower and stood under the spray for a long time. She was already completely off her normal schedule. Why not screw it up a little more? Carl Sack had definitely done that job for her.  
While she washed her hair she couldn't stop thinking about Carl. She kept running through her mind what had happened last night, trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. She came to the same conclusion as earlier. She shouldn't have challenged him to clear the room.  
As she stepped out of the shower and picked up her towel, she tried to avoid the mirror. Seeing every naked part of her body would only reminder her of what he had done to her.  
She quickly dried off and went back to her room. She dressed for the day, her mind only half on what she was doing.  
She was almost out the door when her phone suddenly started ringing. She froze, half-way into her coat.  
I already have yours, and you probably already know my intentions being the intelligent woman that you are. The words from the note flowed through her head as her phone continued to ring. She forced her jacket the rest of the way on and snatched up the phone. She looked at the caller ID and recognized Carl's number although she didn't know why she cared to remember it.  
She almost answered it, almost walked into his trap again. She felt the stupid urge to answer, hear him say her name again. Her silly heart would do a flip as she considered that he actually cared enough to call. She would get sucked in, remember the awesome sex of last night. Addictive sex as she had thought. But she couldn't let herself do it. She couldn't let another man get the better of her. She had let Ivan do it, and Carl Sack would not be next in line. It was better to squash this now before it even got anywhere. You don't like him, Shirley, so don't even think about it. If you do, its down the tubes with your controlling your own life. He's one of those men. Don't. Do. It.  
Shirley lifted her chin, proud of herself for resisting.  
As the phone rang again, she shoved it in her purse and headed for the door. She let her answering machine pick up, leaving him on the other end of the line, wondering why she wouldn't answer.


End file.
